Final Fantasy 7: end.
Book One: A Dream's Dead End.
They were the heroes. They saved their world. But sometimes our actions have Ramifications we can't even imagine.
Disclaimer (or the shameless plug to try and same my butt): I hereby state that I do not own the Final Fantasy franchise, anything remotely related to it, or even enough money to be worth suing. This story is for the purely hedonistic gratification of it's audience and is in no way meant to hinder sales of the game "Final Fantasy VII." On the contrary this author endorses the game. If you read this story and enjoy it, please buy the game. If your read this story and don't enjoy it, please by the game. For that matter, buy the strategy guide. In fact, all the Final fantasy 7 products are very much worth any ridiculously high price you may see them at. All the other Final Fantasy products are just as worthy, so don't limit yourself to 7. Just to be sure you don't miss anything, I suggest you go out and hunt for any product at all in any store that has two "f"s somewhere on it and purchase all said store has. Yeah…right…..
Scene 2: A Vision Softly Creeping.
Cloud awoke to see only darkness.
It took him a few more moments to realize that he was awake. It took yet longer to realize that something was missing. His senses. There was no noise, not even of his own breathing. There was no smell, though he was sure he was sweating. He couldn't taste even his own mouth. And he couldn't feel anything, from the air and ground around him to his own pounding heart beet.
Though a part of him surmised that this total nothingness should have dismayed him, even horrified him, it was actually rather comforting right now, like a silent soothing whisper in his mind. There was nothing to bother him. There was nothing to require his attention. There was only a peaceful void gently cradling him, and a silent voice pacifying his thoughts.
In addition to this voice, he was only mildly surprised at being in this void; after all, he hadn't expected to see or experience anything in particular. In fact, there were no expectations in him, as if his life had begun this very moment.
He looked around, searching for any form of light in the room. Was it a room? It was so hard to remember anything right now. He made a mental note to get more sleep, then spent a few lazy minutes wondering how much he had slept last night. He couldn't remember that either. Surely he had slept…hadn't he?
He shrugged of his confusion, lying back, the surface below him softening. It was so comfortable. Not a tangible texture or warmth, only the pure sensation of comfort, as if in a dream. He was more relaxed now than he could ever remember. The remarkable surface yielding to him, enveloping him, suffocating him. A lightning bolt shot through his thoughts, making a vivid flash before his mind's eye. Something was very wrong. But what was it? He couldn't really remember. In any case, it didn't matter, it was so peaceful, so easy to just relax, to just give up. What was there to fight for anyway. What was there to live for.
Then an odd thing happened…he remembered something.
They were all there. Who "they" were he had no idea, but they looked so happy, one in particular, she looked so peaceful, so serene. He could almost remember her name. He couldn't remember anything about her but somehow he was sure he knew her. He convinced himself that if he could just remember her name it would come back to him. And her name was right there, on the tip of his brain, just barely out of reach.
His mind abruptly shattered, then began to burn, an evil seeping into him, trying to touch the memories that even he himself could not reach. He didn't know how or why, but somehow he knew its intent. On pure instinct he rolled off the platform he was on, strangely free of its imprisonment, not expecting the drop that quickly came, but adapting by hand springing to his feet. It wasn't a large drop at all. He mentally noted that. He had to note everything. He had to figure out where he was.
He felt the presence that invaded his consciousness become surprised, then afraid. It had reason to be. Once his instincts took over he had never been denied victory. He grabbed his old buster sword from the nightstand. He always knew where it was somehow. He held it in front of him, the rush of the oncoming battle making his mouth water. He laughed maniacally, nearly foaming at the mouth now, breaking the silence. He could smell his breath now, taste the bitterness of his mouth, feel his sweaty hands against the handle of his ever-sharp companion. He could feel it right down to his bones just like every finishing move he had delivered before. Someone was going to die.
Then she spoke to him, in her peaceful, serene voice, and though the darkness had not lifted, he could see her sweet smiling lips speaking the words "Bad dream again, dear?"
"Yes, a real nightmare," he replied, his voice and mind calm and reasonable, the voice immediately and subconsciously overpowering his instincts, "but it's over now."
"I'm glad, now come back to bed."
He dropped his sword, though he never heard it land. Not that it really mattered; he had his bliss in her. He had found what he had been searching for all along. "Yes…" Her name. "Aries."